Under Hill
by Scarlett's Fics
Summary: When the Company of Thorin Oakenshield is captured and taken into the depths of Goblin-Town, things take a turn for the worse. Slightly AU - No slash.
1. Prologue: After the Storm

_A/N: Here it is, the prologue of my new _Hobbit_ fanfiction! I know some of you have been waiting for this after seeing the fanart/preview I posted on DeviantArt (username lilis-gallery, for those who are interested), and I hope you won't be disappointed. I know you're expecting some angst, and trust me, angst is just what you will get!_

Under Hill_ is dedicated to my lovely friend Stephanie a.k.a. Italian Hobbit, who is one of my favourite writers and who has kindly accepted to be a beta for me. I'm not a native English speaker, and she has been absolutely amazing and most helpful. THANK YOU !_

* * *

Several hours after the storm, the icy wind lashing the sides of the Misty Mountains had finally turned into a quiet breeze, and the torrential rain had given way to an intermittent drizzle, barely audible in the cave where Thorin and his company were taking refuge for the night. The only sound echoing against the dark, ragged stone walls was the Dwarves' soft breathing and snoring; yet despite his best efforts, Kíli could not sleep.

He was exhausted and he knew that he would probably need all his strength when the company followed their route in the mountains the next morning, but he had been unable to sleep a wink since the Dwarves and Bilbo had settled down in the cave. Every time he shut his eyes, the same haunting image flashed before his closed lids: Fíli's distraught expression as they were separated during the battle of the Stone Giants. The scene kept playing in his mind over and over again, and the fact that his brother, along with the rest of their companions, was now safe and sound, sleeping peacefully right next to him, was not sufficient to erase it from his thoughts. He remembered Fíli's outstretched hand as the rock split under their feet, his alarmed cry and the cold panic that had twisted his own insides as he had realized what was happening.

Laying on his right side, Kíli glanced at Fíli's sleeping frame, wondering if his older brother had been as shaken as he was by the incident. Even though the moment had been brief and its outcome had not been tragic after all, it had cast a whole new light on their journey. For the first time, Kíli was beginning to comprehend just how serious and hazardous their quest could actually be. Sure, Thorin had taken the time to warn his nephews against all the dangers they might encounter in the wild, hostile parts of Middle-Earth; he had spoken of Orcs and Wargs and Goblins, of braving snow storms and crossing turbulent mountain streams, but never of having to face all these perils separated from each other. And Kíli couldn't blame him: up to this point, he had never considered it either.

Kíli felt like he could handle anything with his brother at his side. He had faced the three Trolls knowing that Fíli was only a few feet behind; he had fought the Wargs with Fíli standing right next to him. It had never even occurred to him that there could be such a thing as life without his older brother. Because there couldn't be, really. If their quest to reclaim Erebor shouldtake an irreparable turn for the worse, Kíli only hoped that he and Fíli would go together.

_Stop thinking like that_.

His own sudden surge of pessimism surprised him. Fíli was usually the one who saw the darker side of things. Fíli was the one who had once admitted, a few days after they had left Bag-End, that all of Thorin's companions might not survive the journey to the Lonely Mountain. Kíli had quickly waved the thought off, too excited about their first real adventure to think about its possibly disastrous consequences.

Now, however, he understood his brother's doubts. He also understood the distressed look on their mother's face as she had watched Fíli and him leave for the Shire that crisp morning in Ered Luin. No matter how hard she had tried to hide it, Dís had looked genuinely frightened, and Kíli could now see why. He had heard Thorin promise her that he would bring her sons home safely, but after the Stone Giants mishap, he was aware that it was a promise his uncle might not be able to keep.

Kíli shook his head and rolled onto his back, trying to chase the grim thoughts from his mind. For now, they were all safe. Fíli was safe – snoring softly beside him, fast asleep and oblivious to his brother's concerns. Kíli convinced himself that if the Company had survived Orcs, Trolls, Giants, thunder storms, steep mountain paths and Elvish food, they would most likely survive all the rest.

Staring up at the moist cave ceiling, he let his mind wander to Erebor, to Smaug the Terrible, to Thorin sitting on his throne deep under the Lonely Mountain. He thought of reclaimed homelands and hoards of gold and Fíli and himself dressed in regal garments and shining armour, and felt a faint smile appear on his face as he closed his eyes.

* * *

"Wake up. _Wake up!_"

Kíli started violently at Thorin's loud cry and bolted upright; it took him a little while to realize he had finally fallen asleep. The cave was still plunged into near-complete darkness. He shot a glance at Fíli, who was sitting up next to him and looked just as perplexed as he was; he saw all the Dwarves exchange worried looks and Bofur and Bilbo standing near the entrance of the cave. In the Hobbit's right hand, the small sword he had found in the Troll-hoard glowed bright blue, and Bilbo seemed petrified.

Before Kíli could ask any questions about the strange, glowing blade or his uncle's alarmed yell, he heard a low rumble and felt the ground shake slightly beneath him. Everything happened so fast he barely had time to register it – he uselessly gripped a jagged rock on his left as the ground suddenly split open, and let out a cry of surprise as he fell into the darkness.


	2. Chapter 1: In the Deep of Goblin-Town

_A/N: Here comes the first chapter! I'm sorry this took so long. I'm busy, my beta is busy, we're all busy. And it's frustrating because I'd love to work on this story 24/7..._

_A big thank you to everyone who reviewed the prologue or sent me private messages or DeviantArt notes about it. I'm glad you like it so far! And again, MANY thanks to Stephanie, the best beta ever. And now... Time for some angst!_

* * *

"What are you doing in these parts?"

The Great Goblin's voice resounded around the huge, sharp cave walls of Goblin-Town as he stood before the Dwarves, his bulging eyes shifting back and forth inquisitively between the members of Thorin's company. Doing his best to ignore the vice-like grip of the small, fat Goblin who was restraining him – needlessly, for there was nowhere he could have escaped to had he decided to try –, Fíli glared at the grotesque king, whose enormous goitre wobbled with each of his movements.

Under different circumstances, Fíli would have laughed at the Great Goblin's ludicrous appearance and overall demeanour. He was fairly sure that Kíli would have a joke or two in store about that disgusting flabby goitre, and made a mental note to ask his brother about it after they got out of this mess.

At the moment, however, Kíli was standing several feet away from him, in the front row of their small group and within arm's reach of the Goblin King, and certainly not in the mood for jokes. On Kíli's left was Thorin, his head held high, glaring up at their enemy. Even though Fíli could not see his face, he could easily picture his uncle's expression: a combination of controlled rage and contempt, his blue eyes shining as he silently worked out a plan of escape.

Because that was Thorin's job, wasn't it? Thorin always got them out of trouble. Fíli scoffed softly at the naïve, childish thought that had spontaneously come to his mind. Something told him that the present situation was a different kind of trouble, one that even Thorin Oakenshield might not be able to overcome easily. Fíli was well aware that once the Goblins found out the Dwarves' true identity, there was no way they would let them go.

His companions must be thinking the same, for nobody answered the Great Goblin's question. Fíli cast a sidelong glance at Balin, who stood right next to him; the white-haired Dwarf briefly offered him a reassuring look before refocusing his attention on the Goblin King, who did not seem too pleased with his prisoners' stubborn silence.

"Speak!", he roared, his yellow eyes fixed on Kíli, Ori and Nori, who were standing closest to him. The Great Goblin's minions surrounding the Dwarves gazed up expectantly at their leader, eagerly awaiting orders. Some of them looked openly excited, and Fíli felt an icy shiver running down his spine. He was unsure of what would happen next, but the Goblins' behaviour did not bode well for their company.

It wasn't long before his fears were confirmed as the Goblin King's booming voice rang out again.

"Very well", he said, leaning forward on the ugly stick he seemed to be using as his sceptre. "If they will not talk, we'll make them squawk!" As he shouted the last word, he turned to the countless Goblins that were staring down at him from an interlacing of crudely put together wooden suspension bridges and platforms forming the precarious architecture of Goblin-Town. The creatures cheered and applauded with great noise, as if they had just been promised a particularly entertaining show.

The Dwarves remained still and silent, but Fíli felt a wave of nervousness wash over the group. He had learned from Thorin's childhood tales and stories that Orcs and Goblins were prone to torture and other vile, despicable activities, and while he had found the stories most fascinating when he and Kíli were listening to them sitting on Thorin's lap as young Dwarflings, he suddenly couldn't figure out why he had ever considered them enjoyable. He looked around, and the eager, impatient looks on the Goblins' faces made him quiver.

"Start with the youngest."

Fíli's head shot back to the Great Goblin, a cold stone dropping in his stomach. _Kíli._ He looked desperately towards his little brother, who had not moved in inch and was still staring at the monstrous King. Before Fíli could think of a plan to come to his brother's rescue, however, he realized that it was not Kíli the Goblin was pointing at with his thick, grimy forefinger.

It was Ori.

The young red-haired Dwarf turned to his companions, his eyes wide with fear. Fíli was hardly surprised by the Goblin King's mistake. Although Kíli was the youngest member of Thorin's company by several years, there was something innocent and childish about Ori's appearance that made him look much younger than he really was.

Likewise, Fíli was not surprised in the slightest by Kíli's reaction as two of the Great Goblin's henchmen grabbed Ori by the shoulders – a reaction he had both expected and dreaded. He watched helplessly as Kíli took a step forward and spoke in a low, almost menacing voice that sounded nothing like him.

"Stop it."

The Great Goblin focused on Kíli, narrowing his eyes, visibly curious.

"What is it, boy? Are you willing to speak after all?" he sneered, looking down on the dark-haired Dwarf who had interrupted his proceedings.

"If you're going to be a coward and hurt the youngest first, at least do it properly", came Kíli's curt response. "He's not the youngest of us", he added, nodding briefly at Ori, who stood petrified between the two Goblins that were restraining him. "I am."

Fíli bit his lower lip, feeling panic rising in his throat. It was an incredibly brave move, and of course he couldn't blame his brother; he probably would have done the same had he been in Kíli's stead. He knew very well that Kíli would never let the Goblins hurt Ori because of an error of judgement from their king. But he also knew that he could never stand seeing his baby brother being tortured before his eyes.

"Well, well, well." The Great Goblin had bent down, his enormous head now almost level with Kíli's. "Now this is something I haven't seen before. Looks like we got ourselves a volunteer, boys!" he exclaimed, studying Kíli attentively as the Goblins started cheering again all around the cave.

"I should've guessed", the Goblin King went on with a smirk. "Barely any beard at all… Still a Dwarfling, it seems."

Kíli had turned around slightly when he had moved forward, and Fíli could now see the side of his brother's face. Kíli's dark eyes were shining with rage and hatred beneath his furrowed brow, but Fíli saw no sign of fear. It worried him. He knew from experience that Kíli could have a rather big mouth when he felt provoked, and silently pleaded his brother to keep a low profile. Now was not the time for rash actions.

"Well, Dwarfling, care to explain what brought you and your little friends into my kingdom?", the Great Goblin asked, straightening up and crossing his arms on his saggy chest. Without turning away from Kíli, he gestured towards the two Goblins that were holding Ori, and the creatures let go of his shoulders with a disappointed growl. Ori staggered backwards to join the rest of the company, still looking terrified.

Kíli stared up at the Great Goblin, his eyes filled with fierce determination.

"Nothing that's any concern of yours", he answered calmly, and Fíli bit his lip harder. Kíli's youthful recklessness usually made him smile, but he sensed that it was a most ill-advised attitude to adopt in their present situation.

Before Fíli could think of the possible consequences of his brother's daring words, the Goblin King lifted his grotesque sceptre and swung it across Kíli's face. Caught unawares, Kíli yelped in pain as the force of the blow sent him to the ground.

Fíli instinctively dashed forward to rush to his brother's help, but a firm hand held him back. He spun around furiously; Balin had grabbed his arm and shot him a stern look that clearly meant _Don't do anything stupid_. Clenching his fists, trying to regain his composure, Fíli forced himself to remain still. He knew Balin was right – standing up for Kíli in front of the Great Goblin would only make matters worse for both of them.

His heart pounding in his ears, he watched Kíli roll onto his hands and knees and struggle to get back on his feet, clutching the right side of his head and trembling slightly. Fíli could see trickles of blood dripping down Kíli's right temple from underneath his hand.

Kíli looked up at the Great Goblin again, and this time, there was a distinct hint of fear mingled with the anger in his eyes.

"Now, Dwarfling, I'll give you one last chance." The Great Goblin spoke in a dangerously honeyed tone. "I want to know who you are, where you're going and to what purpose, and I want to know it_ now_."

"I'll die before I tell you anything", Kíli answered between clenched teeth, his voice low and steady. Fíli felt a knot tighten in his stomach. _Please, Kíli._

He didn't even know what he was begging for – he knew all too well that his stubborn brother wouldn't give them away, and he admired him for it. If the Goblins found out about the nature of their quest, they would all be dead anyway.

The Goblin King raised his eyebrows, looking genuinely surprised for a second. "Ah, the legendary stubbornness of the Dwarves", he proclaimed with a pompous gesture. "Well, we'll see about that, won't we?"

He loudly snapped his fingers, and his horde of minions immediately surrounded and grasped the Dwarves, as if they had been waiting for their king's signal all along. For a brief instant, Kíli's wide eyes met Fíli's, and Fíli struggled frantically against the Goblins that were holding him, desperately trying to reach his brother; then Dwalin's tall silhouette hid Kíli from his sight as Fíli and his companions were dragged away from the king's throne and along a narrow wooden bridge.

"Wait!" Thorin's cry emerged from the tussle just as Fíli was about to yell his brother's name, and he saw his uncle thrashing wildly in the Goblins' grip. The Great Goblin gave Thorin an annoyed glance and deliberately turned his back on him.

"Enough. I'll have a little chat with our friend here, and I'll give the rest of you an opportunity to reconsider your attitude. Lock them up!" he ordered, his voice covering the Dwarves' grunts and protests as well as Fíli's panicked scream.

Fíli's frenzied mind was barely able to comprehend what was happening around him as the Goblins pushed and prodded him unceremoniously, leading Thorin's company into the depths of Goblin-Town. All he could think of was Kíli, his Kíli, alone at the hands of that monster – Kíli being tortured, Kíli calling for help, and Fíli wouldn't be there, he had abandoned his brother… A burning feeling of guilt and shame twisted his insides. What was he thinking, watching Kíli face the Great Goblin on his own? What kind of big brother was he?

_I should've defended him. I should've done something._

Lost in his distressed thoughts, Fíli did not realize at once that he was no longer walking on rickety platforms and suspension bridges, but had reached a large rocky plateau at what seemed to be the bottom of the gigantic cave. The Dwarves and their captors were facing a row of cells dug into the rock, closed with thick, crooked metal bars.

One of the Goblins that escorted the group walked to the cells with a large set of keys in his claw-like hand and set about opening two of the iron gates. Fíli gazed at his surroundings, feverishly looking for a way out, but he knew it was hopeless. Even if he wasn't encircled by enemies ready to jump on him at the slightest move, he would never find his way back to Kíli in the maze of Goblin-Town.

He felt a Goblin grab him by the collar and struggled in vain as he was shoved roughly into the cell on the far left of the row, along with several of his companions. Turning his head, he looked around for Thorin, and caught a glance of his uncle being pushed away from him and into an adjacent cell. For a split second, Thorin's eyes locked with his, and Thorin gave him a brief nod that clearly intended to mean _"It's going to be okay,"_ even though his expression betrayed him – his face was unusually pale and he looked just as worried as Fíli was, which only took Fíli's panic to a new level.

The metal bars creaked and clanked as they closed on the Dwarves, leaving them locked in two small, dark cells dimly lit by the flickering torches that hung on the outer cave walls. His heart racing, helplessness and frustration threatening to overwhelm him, Fíli watched the troop of Goblins walk away with a waddling gait, the keys clinking in one of the creatures' hands.

Fíli took in a few deep breaths to calm himself and looked around, eyes shifting between his fellow prisoners. Bofur, Dori, Nori, Óin and Glóin shared his cell while Thorin and the rest of the company were gathered in the next, separated from them by more rusty bars. Relieved to discover that he could at least see and talk to his uncle, Fíli rushed to Thorin and gripped the cold metal that stood between them, his forehead pressed against the bars.

"Uncle", he pleaded in a near-hysterical voice. "Uncle, we have to do something, please, we can't –"

Thorin extended a hand and gently squeezed Fíli's shoulder. "It'll be fine," he whispered, although he did not seem entirely convinced by his own words. "Kíli is strong and brave. He'll be alright, I promise."

Fíli wanted nothing more than to believe him, but he had barely opened his mouth to answer when Kíli started to scream.

* * *

_A/N: Yes, that was a mean cliffhanger, wasn't it? *sniggers* Also, I decided to go with Tolkien's writings (the appendixes and the Durin family tree) in which Kíli is the youngest member of Thorin's company. In the movies, it's Ori, but I've always preferred Tolkien's version with Fíli and Kíli being the youngest..._


End file.
